He turned the hands of the clock to 10:47, and slipped through the dark portal behind it. The second he left the manor behind, he threw off the Bruce Wayne persona like an an old cape. He was Batman now.
He knew something was wrong when he saw his chair. His chair, his personal, private Bat-Chair, had been moved. MOVED! No one, NO ONE! touched his Bat-chair. Alfred knew better, Dick knew better, Tim knew better, Cassandra knew better, Stephanie...Well, she might have done it, but the entryway sensors would have registered her. Sasha...Sasha had learned, after the unfortunate incident with the lace doilies. That meant someone had broken in, without setting off the alarms. Someone who knew where the cave was, and could penetrate his painstaking defenses. That meant JLA, and THAT meant troub--
"AAGGGGHHHH!!!!!!" Screamed Batman, as a sudden sharp pain caught him from behind. He found himself hanging above the ground, suspended by his blue kevlar shorts, which were digging sharply into his...Bat-Region.
"KAL-EL!!!" He screamed, deducing the identity of his assailant. "I WILL KILL YOU FOR THIS!!!! DO YOU HEAR ME??? KILL YOU!!!! I WENT EASY ON YOU LAST TIME, DO YOU HEAR ME?"
"Calm down, Bruce. You have this coming." Superman's deeply resonant voice came from behind and below the wedgied Dark Knight. Batman got a fix on the approximate location of the Man of Steel's nose, tossed a kryptonite capsule from his belt at Superman's feet, and kicked him solidly. Will a yelp of pain, Superman dropped him, and leapt back.
"Bruce, you've always been a sick, crazy, driven man with no sense of humor. I've always worried about that. But then you finally cut loose, and I realized how much better off we were before." Superman was frowning severely at him. Batman noted with a small measure of satisfaction that his former ally still had a large red mark on his face, a vaguely bat-shaped mark. Tatoo removal was a painful business. "Are you listening to me, Bruce?" Superman's voice snapped Batman away from cheerful fantasies about Superman in excruciating pain, and back to what the superhero was actually saying.
"Bruce, I've got to tell you, you're worse with a sense of humor than you were when you grim and brooding. It has to stop. Aside from it's effects on me," Superman's blush colored the bat-scar on his face, "your behavior has completely destabilized the League. Rigging mollasses barrels over Wally's door, putting itching powder in J'onn's shorts, dropping purple dye in Arthur's water tank, Freezing Diana's--"
"Get to the point, Superman. You're wasting my time."
"The point, Batman, is that you've gone too far, too often. And I'm here to put a stop to it." With speed beyond human perception, Superman gave Batman the dreaded atomic death noogies of Krypton, the friction burning trough the kevlar and lighting the Caped Crusader's hair on fire. He ran screaming for the Bat-Sink, and Superman began cheerfully afixing "Kick Me" signs to all of Batman's capes. The signs were made of solid adamantium sheeting, and the adhesive was a mix of Superman's own design. They wouldn't be coming off anytime soon.
He knew something was wrong when he saw his chair. His chair, his personal, private Bat-Chair, had been moved. MOVED! No one, NO ONE! touched his Bat-chair. Alfred knew better, Dick knew better, Tim knew better, Cassandra knew better, Stephanie...Well, she might have done it, but the entryway sensors would have registered her. Sasha...Sasha had learned, after the unfortunate incident with the lace doilies. That meant someone had broken in, without setting off the alarms. Someone who knew where the cave was, and could penetrate his painstaking defenses. That meant JLA, and THAT meant troub--
"AAGGGGHHHH!!!!!!" Screamed Batman, as a sudden sharp pain caught him from behind. He found himself hanging above the ground, suspended by his blue kevlar shorts, which were digging sharply into his...Bat-Region.
"KAL-EL!!!" He screamed, deducing the identity of his assailant. "I WILL KILL YOU FOR THIS!!!! DO YOU HEAR ME??? KILL YOU!!!! I WENT EASY ON YOU LAST TIME, DO YOU HEAR ME?"
"Calm down, Bruce. You have this coming." Superman's deeply resonant voice came from behind and below the wedgied Dark Knight. Batman got a fix on the approximate location of the Man of Steel's nose, tossed a kryptonite capsule from his belt at Superman's feet, and kicked him solidly. Will a yelp of pain, Superman dropped him, and leapt back.
"Bruce, you've always been a sick, crazy, driven man with no sense of humor. I've always worried about that. But then you finally cut loose, and I realized how much better off we were before." Superman was frowning severely at him. Batman noted with a small measure of satisfaction that his former ally still had a large red mark on his face, a vaguely bat-shaped mark. Tatoo removal was a painful business. "Are you listening to me, Bruce?" Superman's voice snapped Batman away from cheerful fantasies about Superman in excruciating pain, and back to what the superhero was actually saying.
"Bruce, I've got to tell you, you're worse with a sense of humor than you were when you grim and brooding. It has to stop. Aside from it's effects on me," Superman's blush colored the bat-scar on his face, "your behavior has completely destabilized the League. Rigging mollasses barrels over Wally's door, putting itching powder in J'onn's shorts, dropping purple dye in Arthur's water tank, Freezing Diana's--"
"Get to the point, Superman. You're wasting my time."
"The point, Batman, is that you've gone too far, too often. And I'm here to put a stop to it." With speed beyond human perception, Superman gave Batman the dreaded atomic death noogies of Krypton, the friction burning trough the kevlar and lighting the Caped Crusader's hair on fire. He ran screaming for the Bat-Sink, and Superman began cheerfully afixing "Kick Me" signs to all of Batman's capes. The signs were made of solid adamantium sheeting, and the adhesive was a mix of Superman's own design. They wouldn't be coming off anytime soon.